Oliver Has A Wonderful Life
by Bloodlustful
Summary: On Christmas Eve, 1988, Oliver accidentally knocks over the tree and comes down on himself for it, wishing he'd never lived. But he finds out in the most unexpected of ways just how vital he is to the world, and just how much difference he's made to the lives of many. This is both an ode to Oliver, a Christmas fic and a nod to the classic Frank Capra film "It's A Wonderful Life".


Season's greetings, everyone! Since I like Oliver And Company, since it's been a while since the last time I wrote a fanfic and since I did this kind of story last year for the Monster Rancher Anime(specifically focused around Tiger of the Wind), I decided that this year, I would make this sort of fic for OAC. Now, then, this early Christmas gift of a fanfic takes place post-movie. That is to say, after the events of Oliver And Company. And on Christmas Eve, to be more exact. Oliver has something of a mishap, and he feels so guilty about it he thinks things would have been better were he never to have existed. But when he falls asleep that night, he learns the hard way just how important he is to the city, and for that matter, to the world, kitten or not.

THINGS TO NOTE:

As is the case with the fic I did last year around Christmas with Monster Rancher, this is inspired by, and a spin-off/spoof of, the classic Frank Capra movie from 1946 titled "It's A Wonderful Life".

I own none of the characters. They all belong to the Oliver And Company franchise.

Oliver Has A Wonderful Life

It was Christmas Eve, 1988. It had been a few months since Sykes had finally gone down and so had his two evil attack dogs, and all was well with New York City. Especially since Fagin, as a reward for his part, and that of his dogs, in helping bring Sykes down once and for all, had been able to get himself both a pardon for his past thefts and a job as a pizza delivery boy(or is that man, whatever)and in the process had saved up enough money so he could now live in a special condominium and so could his five dogs, who'd also gotten a pardon for their past thefts. Better yet, said condominium was just a block away from Jenny's mansion, so it was only too easy for Fagin and/or any of his dogs to visit Oliver whenever they wished, and vice versa. In fact, on this Christmas Eve, Fagin and his dogs had been invited over to the mansion of the Foxworths. And they'd gleefully accepted the invitation, and the Christmas Eve party was just going outright splendidly. Everyone was enjoying themselves so thoroughly, especially in light of how Oliver was happy to see his old friends again, and that same Oliver was much, much closer with Georgette than he had been previously, and vice versa. They were almost like brother and sister, in a loose sense, of course. And Jenny was now on Christmas break, with fabulous and beautiful grades on her school finals. Jenny's parents were back home for the holidays, and Winston was making sure all stayed as wonderful as it was while having just as wonderful a time himself simultaneously.

And had Jenny introduced her parents to Oliver, since they hadn't seen him before, along with Fagin and his dogs, who they also hadn't met yet? But of course. The Foxworths learned the story and everything. But as much fun, joy and anticipation of Christmas as this lot were having on this beautiful Christmas Eve night, what seemed like heaven on earth was going to turn to hell on earth, at least in some ways, and especially for poor Oliver. Why was this, and how could it in any way possibly happen at such a time as this one, you ask? Oliver noticed one of the tree's many decorations. For him, it stood out from the rest due to the way that it looked so shiny and fun and delightful, and it would be perfect for playing with. At least for a kitten like himself, anyhow. So, not knowing that wasn't allowed, and unaware that what he was about to do would lead not to fun, like he expected, wanted and intended, but to disaster, he happily scurried on over to where the decoration in question, which was a shiny blue bulb. He playfully, cutely and innocently batted at it, having a nice time, but then Winston came in, saw him doing it and said in a loud, startled tone of voice: "OLIVER! What are you doing? Get away from there now! That is NOT a toy!" The suddenness and loudness of this caused Oliver to fall back in surprise, and due to where he'd been, this made it so his body went against the wire keeping the Christmas tree plugged in, and although he'd meant to do neither that nor the act of pulling the plug, his weight, combined with how hard he fell against the cord, was just enough to make it so the plug came out and the lights went out on the Christmas tree.

Though everyone was startled at this, and not in a good way, including Oliver himself, who had not meant for any of this to happen, and, in fact, just wanted to toy with a decoration he did not know wasn't a toy, things were about to go from bad to worse. Because Oliver, in how very startled, confused and skittish he was right now, along with eager to get back up and plug the cord back in, accidentally got himself tangled in the cord, and when he tried to move to get himself free and undo his unexpected mistake, he instead was pulled down by the cord in a way that made him hit the ground, and the resulting pull of the lights connected to the cord and the wires that kept them connected to each other combined to pull down the tree. It fell right down on the floor, and in a way so it was lying straight across the room and many of the decorations fell off.

Everyone scattered in all directions to avoid getting fallen on by it, while Oliver was so eager to get free and set this right that he had managed to get himself free of the cord just before the tree hit the floor, and therefore was unaware he'd caused it to fall until he heard the crash. The crash it took onto not only the floor, but also, partially on the sides, into things like food and drink, and decorations went in all directions along with lights, whether they broke or not. Each one happened just as much as the other, though, and the tree had fallen just short of crushing the presents under it. They weren't ruined, but if it had fallen any closer to them, they would have been. The others had even fallen over during their scattering session, dropping their food and spilling their drinks. Sometimes onto each other, albeit by accident, just like some pine needles flew onto some individuals and even flew against the walls. And Oliver had heard all of those sounds, too.

"Please don't let that be what I think it is…" Oliver thought to himself in fear and upset. But as soon as he turned to see, what it sounded like and what he dreaded it would be proved itself to be reality. He had brought down the Christmas tree, and partially ruined it. And on the night of CHRISTMAS EVE, of all times! Oliver was horrified, ashamed and paralyzed with guilt, plenty of which was coursing through his body, heart, mind and soul right now. "Oh, my God…" Georgette gaped. "The tree…the beautiful tree…" Oliver, once able to move again, was able to see that everyone was looking at him for obvious reasons, and although it was impossible to tell whether they were angry, surprised or unable to tell what to feel, Oliver still gasped out in a weak, whispering tone of voice: "I'm…so sorry…it was an accident…I didn't mean to…please don't hate me…" He was trembling and so upset with himself and full of shame and sadness, not to mention the feeling that he'd inadvertently sabotaged Christmas before it even came(and when Jenny was seeing her parents for the first time in some time, and when those same parents had first met him, too), that as soon as he felt himself able to move again, he zoomed off upstairs to Jenny's room. He would've helped clean up the mess he'd made, but the problem was he felt so awful that he didn't even want to show himself to ANYONE. His guilt was too overwhelming, and he was too scared of what kind of reprimanding might lie in front of him.

Of course, Oliver was normally much braver, far stronger and way more rational than this, but since he felt like he'd ruined everyone's Christmas and should not show his face to anyone, all because he just wanted to have a little harmless fun with a decoration, he just couldn't stand the fact he existed right now, much less to be in the presence of anyone, least of all those closest to him who he had, in his sad, upset and frightened eyes and guilty mind, repaid for all they'd done for him and/or to help him by carelessly destroying the Christmas of on Christmas Eve, of all days. He only stopped moving when he was under the covers of Jenny's bed and completely concealed from sight, and when he had also buried his face into his front legs, at which point he was shaking with upset and crying into his forelegs.

"What have I done?" he wept. "I've destroyed everyone's Christmas! I've trashed the tree! I've totaled the good time we were all having! I've thrown all that was good about tonight and all we had to look forward to out the window! All for how I was careless when batting about at an ornament and didn't watch where I was going! I've never felt so guilty! The others probably hate me with a vengeance now, and I don't blame them! They're going to have an empty, unhappy Christmas, all because of me! And to add insult to injury, I've made a horrendous mess on Jenny's floor! They've all done so much for me, and this is how I thank them? Really, first I make Georgette mad just by being there and she sees me as an unwanted pest, which brings out the worst in her, then I upset Dodger by wanting to return to Jenny's when I've been brought back to the barge, then I am what makes it so Jenny is kidnapped by Sykes, since I'm the one being held for ransom and she wants me back, and so goes looking for me, and along with choosing to stay with Jenny while my old friends go back to their old life, until they get that condo, of course, I now knock the Christmas tree over and ruin their holiday! And when Jenny's seeing her parents for the first time in so long, no less! What kind of a stupid, wretched, thoughtless little brat am I? My God, I can tell easily now that Jenny, her parents and her butler, as well as Georgette, Fagin, Dodger, Rita, Tito, Francis and Einstein would all be way better off, and so would the world, for that matter, especially New York City, if I had never, ever come into existence in the first place!"

Oliver then let out another stream of tears, not even bothering to try and suppress them, as he saw no reason to, and then wept out: "I wish that I had never been born at all." It was after this that he cried some more until he finally fell asleep. He'd said a lot of things that he didn't mean, though he thought he meant them at the time he'd said them, but in any case, it was indeed his guilt, upset and how terrible and remorse he felt for his unintended catastrophe, yet he was not aware of this, nor of anything but how, despite wishing he'd never existed, he still seemed to be just as material and existent as he'd been before. As soon as he'd calmed down and recovered enough to think straight and get out of Jenny's bed, he'd go. "I'm…still here?" He didn't know he had fallen asleep, especially since things looked just as they'd been before. He felt the blanket he was under and said: "Yeah, things are just as they were. Although…something strange. I don't hear anyone but Jenny downstairs at all. What's going on? Sigh…maybe everyone else went home and Winston and Georgette decided to just leave the room. Guess I'm going to have to face the music sooner or later. It's not like I can hide from them forever, and I've gotten over my guilt enough to at least tolerate whatever criticism I'll receive for my accident with the tree."

So Oliver got up, and made his way out of the covers, then he went downstairs and he'd reenter the living room he'd been in before. Only he did not see the glares of his friends, owner, her parents, her butler and his fellow housepet, as he expected. He saw Jenny, but as a teenager, not as an eight year old girl, lying on the couch, looking like hell, and not only was her body in horrible condition(as in, she was thin, diseased and lethargic, along with unhappy and partly out of touch with reality)but Oliver could see she was holding a bottle of gin in one hand, a cigarette in the other and had a lot of amphetamines at her feet, plus he saw cocaine on the desk behind her head. The pillow she was lying on was blanketed with bags of pot. Oliver said: "Jenny? Is that…you?" Jenny turned her head, with some effort, to Oliver, and she said: "Huh…who are you? A cat? Awwww, where did you come from? I'm sorry, I don't think you should be here. I am not allowed to have pets." "What are you talking about?" Oliver asked. "You own two! Me, and a poodle named Georgette!" "Georgette?" Jenny replied. "I had to give her away years ago. I can't ever see her again. Sniff…I miss her…and now I'm just a useless junkie…it's the only way to deal with the pain…"

"What pain?" Oliver asked. "And what are those?" "Drugs." Jenny said. "They're the exit from my living hell of a life. I know they can kill me, but they dull the sadness, and I want to die, anyway. Oh, and I'm sorry, but I don't own you. I don't think I've ever seen you before in my life…" "But you adopted and named me!" Oliver exclaimed. "It's me! Oliver! Your pet kitten!" "Oliver's your name? Oh, hi, Oliver. But I didn't name you. I never even met you. I really don't understand why you think I'm your owner…" Jenny wheezed. "What happened to Georgette?" asked Oliver. "Why isn't she here anymore?" "Years before now," Jenny explained, "a powerful and cruel crime boss named Bill Sykes took over New York City after killing a poor, desperate man named Fagin who owed him money. He renamed it 'Sykesville' and would never allow any animals to be kept as pets ever again, and anyone who owned them was to give them to him so he would either send them to the pound or have them put down, depending on who they were and what mood he was in. He also made sure to deprive everyone of their income, finance and wealth, however much or little of it they had, so that not only was he easily the richest man in this city, but he would rule it and anyone who needed money would have to get it from him and pay him back for it somehow or other. Look what happened to my once beautiful mansion after that…"

Oliver looked about. This was not the mansion he was adopted into. This was a shoddy hovel of a horrendous looking shack which not only made Fagin's former home of a barge look like a palace by comparison, but also looked like the run down, wooden house gone to seed from the western corner of hell. Right down to how filthy, dark and disgusting it was. He said: "Jenny, what happened? You lived in a beautiful mansion!" "That hasn't been the case since Sykes took over. He took all my money and possessions, and also killed my butler, Winston, along with my parents, who were coming home at the time. He left me nothing but this to live in, and I had just enough money left to buy the only thing which was even resembling anything relieving. These many drugs. I hate being an addict, but it's my only hope to ease my suffering and speed up my dying process so I can leave this horrible world I now live in. I've been one for some time, and it should not be long before I've finally died of drug overdose."

Tears started brimming in Oliver's eyes, and he was then told by Jenny: "If you want to see what I'm talking about, go and look about the city which was once Manhattan, but is now Sykesville." Oliver ran out, and to his horror, he saw that his home city was, in fact, now a dark, revolting and horrifically sleazy version of itself. Buildings were filthy, dusty, old and pretty much ready to cave in, people were all either drug addicts, drunkards, depressed bums, derelicts, hobos or any combo of the three, and animals were only in crappy, less than spacious cages in various pounds and control centers. All vehicles were rusty and of low quality, as were all signs, and every place was dark, grey, gloomy and miserable. There was even plenty of pollution in the air, and the entire city was a mess, with trash, corpses, debris and broken down objects, products and pieces of glass everywhere. Oliver even saw vagrants from place to place, and everything was in poor condition. "Where…am I?" Oliver asked. This dreadful, nasty place made the worst regions of New York City, and the box he'd been in alone on that rainy night, look like heaven on earth. "Wait a second…" Oliver thought, and just then, he noticed a familiar face in one of the dog pounds. "GEORGETTE!" he exclaimed.

He ran into that dog pound, which thankfully the owner of had left the door open, as he was so miserable and hated his job so much that he had forgotten to close it, and he went to the cage holding Georgette. On the way there, he'd passed a sign which read "Sykesville", thus very firmly proving what Jenny said to be true. He said: "Hello? Georgette? Can you hear me?" She was a far cry from what he knew her to look like. She wasn't perfectly beautiful and glamorous as she had looked before. She was broken down. Beat up. Filthy. Circles under her eyes. Yellow, rotten teeth and no claws, as she'd been declawed long ago. Some of her fur was even gone. And she even had patches of blood in some places. "Huh? Who said that?" she croaked out. Her voice was like fingernails scraping on a chalkboard. "I did." she heard Oliver say, looking down to see him, and she went: "What? A kitten? What are you doing here? And why are you going about the city? You know what happens to animals who aren't locked up in pound cages?" "They die?" Oliver asked, remembering how Jenny had said Sykes either locked animals up or killed them. "Yes, and by means of Sykes feeding them to his Dobermans, the only animals he's allowing to be free, and that's because he owns them and is just as bad as they are! And people aren't that better off, as he kills anyone who so much as questions his methods or disagrees with him! So you'd better scram before someone finds you, or you're dead meat!" "But I came here to see you, Georgette! Surely you recognize me!" "I have never met you, and I don't know you! So I don't recognize you! I can't understand why the hell you came to see me!" "We know each other! I'm Oliver!" "Well, Oliver, I don't know how you know my name, but I sure don't know you despite how you seem to know me, so there's no point in you being here! I'm on my last of legs anyway, and there's nothing either of us can do about it! So just leave out this pound's door unless you would rather join me at death's door!"

"But Jenny…" Oliver protested. "Jenny?!" Georgette barked. "Sykes took me away from her years ago, and she was so sad, she took to ruining her body with various drugs! How I wish I could return to her, but I know I'll never see her again…sniff…and how do you know her?" "She adopted me!" Oliver replied. "She did not. I never saw you enter her house, nor did she even talk of a kitten of any kind or say the name 'Oliver'. So she can't have adopted you." Suddenly, they heard human footsteps, and Georgette said: "Oh, no. That must be the owner of this place. If you want to live, I would advise you to run as far away from this place as possible and never look back." Realizing there was no point in further trying to convince Georgette what he knew but she could not grasp, Oliver ran through the still open door and was able to disappear into the night far before the approaching human could even notice anything ran by, as he was too high on meth and the like anyway at this time. Yeah, he'd left the place to get some drugs to make his sadness and misery more tolerable. It was something he did frequently, along with taking refuge in strong drink for the same reasons. And just as frequently, too. Just as he entered, Georgette coughed up some blood, took a gasp, had her final breath, collapsed to the floor of her cage and died. The man saw it happen and shook his head, saying: "Why did Sykes have to become this city's new ruler, and make things this way? If only I were to follow poor Georgette in death, for that was the only escape for her from this hellhole of a city, and it's the only way I'll be able to get out of it, too."

Oliver kept running, and thought to himself: "Oh, my God…I had this thought before, and now I can see it's been confirmed! The only way this could be possible is…" He stopped in his tracks suddenly and abruptly, and he froze with shock and realization. "I got what I wished for…" The painful understanding was increasingly apparent and obvious to him, and Oliver let out: "I've…I've been brought to some different world! Some alternate dimension! It's just like the one I lived in before, only in this one…I…I never lived…" He looked about, and saw a piece of photograph. It was of all his brothers and sisters in their box…and though it was from a part of the photo that would have shown him along with some of his siblings, he was nowhere to be seen in the space he would have occupied. This made it clearer than ever. "This is a world in which I was never born…" Oliver gasped. He couldn't help but burst into tears, after seeing all he had, and looking at this photograph piece, which brought back the memory of how hard it was for him when no one wanted him, and combined with showing he was never there in this world, along with all the hideous, tragic, heartbreaking sights he'd seen, facts he'd learned and discoveries he'd made. Once he stopped crying, he thought: "What am I going to do? Where can I go? I can't just stay here! Especially since I'll be captured and killed if I am! I have to set things right, or find a way out of here, or, or…"

He just didn't know what to do. But when he heard a busted up old taxi coming his way, he knew he had to hightail it out of there. So he did, and he didn't stop until he came across an extremely familiar face. It was that of Dodger, who was currently in an alley. He was alone, in addition to how his bandana was gone, and he was worn out, bruised, old, tired, limp, broken and filthy beyond belief. He also seemed quite thin and weak, not to mention how his eyes did not have the excitement, confidence, coolness, smooth suaveness and vigor in them Oliver was quite accustomed to seeing in Dodger's eyes. Oh, no. They were devoid of color. Bloodshot. Dull. And his body was even worse. He had a lot of cuts and scrapes, and it was as if he had been fully and forever separated from his interior engine. And been through a gravel crusher. "Dodger?" let out Oliver, taken aback by what he was seeing of his closest canine friend. "Huh…who said my name…" Dodger asked, but he then looked to see Oliver, saying: "Eh…a kitten…ah, man, what are you doin' here, little fella? It ain't safe for animals to be out and about…it's a death sentence, in fact…" "Dodger, don't you notice me? I'm Oliver! I'm your best friend…" "Kid, I ain't had no friends for God knows how long…only reason I'm even out here is 'cause they ran out of room and cages in the pounds, so they just threw me here to waist away and starve to death. And I've never seen you before in my life. Seriously, in no way are you familiar to me…"

"But your owner, Fagin…" Oliver protested, hoping that Jenny was at least mistaken about Fagin, Winston and/or her parents being dead, despite how all she said had thus far proven to be true. "Fagin? He was killed by Sykes long ago, kid. Don't know how you know about him, or that he was my owner, but as much as it saddens me, he's dead, and so are a lot of other folks who Sykes killed, just because he enjoys killing people, and to prove a point and get money for himself. I think they were this one guy named Winston, along with the parents of some girl who was named Jenny Foxworth." Oliver opened his eyes most widely, and the words Dodger said hit him like a fist. "I don't have much longer, kid." Dodger told him. "To exist, that is…see, after Fagin was murdered, my four fellow dog pals were taken to the pound, with the exception of Einstein, who Sykes had his Dobermans, Roscoe and Desoto, tear apart. Just to prove he had the more powerful dogs despite Einstein being bigger than either of them." This news hit Oliver in the heart, and he shed more tears. "I know, it's sad…" Dodger cried, shedding tears himself. "I was at first put in the pound, though this obviously didn't last, and a different pound was where Rita, Francis and Tito were put, though Rita is now dying, much like I am, so she was brought to Fagin's burial ground after she begged profusely to at least die after seeing his grave one last time, and to end her life in the same place Fagin was buried. Sykes permitted the catchers to do it for her just as a way of mocking her and knowing she could experience sadness one final time, even if that was neither her reason for going nor theirs, and Sykes was the only one who saw it that way, and of course the only one who wanted it that way."

"And she's there now?" asked Oliver. "Yeah, I don't know whether she's died or not, though as I said, she IS dying, and a goner, not unlike me. If you want to know where to find the cemetery Fagin was buried in, then go ask Francis and Tito. They are in the pound four blocks from this alley." "Thank you…" Oliver said, "…but Dodger, there has to be something that can be done for you and/or Rita…" "I'm sorry, but no…" Dodger sighed unhappily. "It's inevitable for both of us. We're too far gone. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if I died in a matter of minutes by this point. Because of this, and because Rita is dying at a similar rate to me, I think you would do best to take off now, so you could reach her in time, seeing as how it's pretty clear to me you would at least like to see her before she leaves this hideous, cruel, dark and downtrodden world for all time, which is actually a blessing for her, when you think about it. Plus, since part of your wish to see her and help me is a sign you know us despite us not knowing you, it'd make you real sad to see me die, so go. Go before your heart is broken and your time is up." "Okay…" said Oliver, realizing it was his only option. "Thanks again, Dodger…" He fought back a sob, and he then took off, finding the pound containing Francis and Tito.

When he entered, through an open window, he saw their cage quickly. Neither one was in any kind of good condition. Francis, instead of being chubby as he'd been before, was now really skeletal, and he looked as droopy as he did sad and unhealthy. Tito was even thinner, and in fact almost as thin as a needle, not to mention how his red hair was all gone and his eyes were as dull and bloodshot as Francis's were, and both of them had eyes which were easily in as bad of such a condition as Dodger's had been. Oliver said: "Francis? Tito?" They both looked down and Tito let out: "Whoa, is that a kitten, man?" "Yeah, looks like it." Francis agreed. "Yeah, I'm a kitten, guys! My name is Oliver!" "How do you know our names, by the way, Oliver?" asked Francis. "I met you guys as a gang before! Dodger was the first, and he introduced me to the rest of you! Fagin, too!" "A gang! If only we still were one!" Tito sighed. "We've been living in this pound for years." Francis said. "Every day, we hope more and more we're going to get a lethal injection so this endless hell we're living in can end! Sykes is doing everything he can to make this world perfect for his dogs and himself and abysmal for everyone else!" "Yeah, and me and Francis are so miserable since the gang had to disband after Fagin's death, we haven't done anything but lie here in upset and discomfort from that moment on! To think we used to go at it with each other like crazy, man!" "Man, how I wish those days would come back…" sighed Francis.

"Anyway, kitty, what you here for?" asked Tito. "We've never known you, nor did you ever meet any of us as a gang, and it's dangerous for any one animal to be outside of a cage in a pound in this city nowadays unless you're either Roscoe or Desoto!" Francis added in. "I know, since I've learned what Sykesville is like, but I want to know where Fagin's burial ground is! It was told to me by Dodger that Rita's there!" "Yeah, she begged to be, since she was dying and wanted to see Fagin in some way one last time." Tito said, shedding a tear. "Don't know if she's died or not, but what do you want to see her for?" asked Francis. "At the very least, to comfort her," Oliver said, "but also to see if there's a way to save her and stop Sykes! She's the only one there's even a remote possibility of that knowledge being possessed by!" "You'll be wasting your time with it all, even comforting her, kid!" Tito told him. "There's no way in hell Sykes'll ever be brought down, and Rita can't possibly be saved! And she's way beyond any kind of consoling, comfort or being cheered up, and won't even know you despite how you seem to know her!" Francis pointed out. "But I have to try! Even if I fail, I can't just leave her to die all by herself without even trying to do something about all this!" Oliver insisted.

"Fine…go back out the window from which you came, and take a left, then go six blocks from this area." Tito instructed. Francis then concluded: "You will find the cemetery where Fagin was buried, and so were the Foxworth family parents and the butler of that family, whose name was Winston, along with the grieving, dying Rita, there." "Thanks, guys!" Oliver said, and he took off out the window, with Tito going: "Our work here is done, amigo, si?" "Yeah, but if only our time here could be done, too." Francis responded. "No argument here." Tito nodded. Oliver kept going after taking a left once he was out the window, and didn't stop until he could both tell he'd gone six blocks and looked to see the cemetery, where he saw the shape of the dying and crying Rita, who was lying on her stomach and her nose was pointed at Fagin's grave. He ran in and jumped next to her, saying in a quiet, calm tone of voice: "Rita?" She turned her head, albeit with effort, to look at who'd said that, and she said: "Hmmm…who are you?" "I'm Oliver!" he said. "You're Rita! Once part of that gang!" "You mean the gang of dogs Fagin owned?" asked Rita. "Well, Oliver, don't know how you know me, but that gang is long gone, just like poor Fagin. And those poor Foxworths, plus their butler. I beseeched the owners of the dog pound that I be brought here to see Fagin's tombstone one last time, since I was old, dying and torn down. Sykes only allowed them to grant my wish because he believed it would fulfill his sadistic pleasure of seeing me have one last moment of sadness for the icing on the cake of this hellish, agonizing life I've lived. I think I'm mere moments away from death, which actually is a gift for me by now."

"But Rita…" Oliver said, nuzzling her and ignoring the smell her body was giving off due to how filthy, thin, arthritic, improperly healed, malnourished, molted(in some places, she had most of her fur, but some patches of it were gone), aged, broken, weak, unhealthy, unclean and outright sick and near death she was. Her brown fur almost looked dark grey due to her age and condition. Oliver continued on: "…there must be some way to help and save you. And even if he's taken over everything, there's got to be something I can do to put an end to Sykes' reign of tyranny, terror, greed and evil…" He licked her side and nuzzled her, then kept on: "Surely you, if anyone, would know about what that was! I mean, you are, or you were, the brains of your group! The voice of reason! You even helped me learn about streets with that 'Streets Of Gold' song of yours!" "I don't know what you're talking about, since none of that ever in any way happened at any time and I never even met you, Oliver," Rita answered, "but although I'm sorry to say it, there's nothing you can do for me. Nor can anyone. I'm going to die, and nothing can stop that. And sadly enough, nothing can stop Sykes, either. He's this city's eternal ruler and dictator, and as long as he is, this is how things are going to be, and it gets no better than this, not to mention how it could, and probably will, easily get worse."

"But I can't just let Sykes continue to prosper off of the turmoil and suffering of innocent people and various animals without even trying to do something about it!" Oliver begged. "Rita, please, if nothing else, could you at least tell me where Sykes is?" "All right, but you do realize this is pointless…" Rita told him. "Not if I can make it count, which I'll either do, or die trying to do." Oliver answered. "Okay," Rita said, "Sykes lives in the Empire State Building, on the highest office floor, though obviously not on the top floor of the building. Though after he had this city renamed Sykesville, he had the building renamed the Eternal Sykes Building, so that is the name you'll see on the front of its doors. His office is at the very end of the hallway of that floor. He always has his Doberman attack dogs with him, one at each side. And he rarely leaves his desk except to eat, sleep and/or use the toilet, as he believes it to be the perfect place to be as someone in his position of power. You know, just letting the money roll in while he drinks the blood of numerous innocent people and equally innocent animals alike. Be they NYC citizens, pets, people worldwide, wild animals, herbivorous or carnivorous, or anything in between from either group, he keeps making them suffer and/or die while he also keeps getting wealth for himself, and the more he gets, the greedier he gets. And the greedier he gets, the more he sees to his monetary gain and the pain and/or death of those he rules over. Especially since he loves to see them suffer. It is sadistic pleasure and malicious ecstasy to him. If you go ten blocks from here and take a right, you will find the Eternal Sykes Building." "Thank you, Rita…" Oliver let out, and he knew she now wanted to enjoy her last moments with Fagin, who he had, during his visit her, noticed the grave of along with those of the Foxworths and Winston, but resisted the urge to shed tears for them due to what information he needed from Rita.

So Oliver took off after Rita said: "You're welcome, little one, and while this may be an empty thing to say, since I'm afraid you're fighting a losing battle…good luck." "Thanks, but it won't be a losing battle!" Oliver replied. "So it's not as empty as you think!" Rita then looked to Fagin's grave and focused entirely on it, knowing she was, at most, one minute away from dying. She would make the most of that one minute and make sure the last thing she saw was the name of her beloved owner who she missed so dreadfully even now(or perhaps especially now)on the gravestone that stood above the dirt that covered his bones. Meanwhile, Oliver followed what directions he'd been given by Rita, and in his eagerness to get to the Eternal Sykes Building and do everything he could to bring Sykes down, it was not long before he reached his destination.

Once he had, he went through the doors after some people left the place(they were very obviously unhappy people who had no choice but to work for Sykes for as long as he made them unless they wished to lose their jobs and/or die)and made it inside just in time before they were closed. Then he waited for the elevator, which he could tell was about to open by how the button lit up, to open, and while people walked out, Oliver scurried in. He heard one guy say: "Man, if only I never had to go to floor 85 again…" and then ran up him fast enough so he never knew of what had gotten on him, along with jumping down to quickly press the 8 and 5 buttons. Just as he landed, the doors closed and the freaked man went running out, not knowing what had just happened or why. "I don't like having to freak anyone out like that, but this is an emergency." Oliver thought to himself. He waited for what felt like forever to hear the ring that would show he had reached the floor, but when it finally happened, he said: "Bingo! I've struck paydirt!" A second after the doors opened, he ran out and looked to the direction that led to the end of the hallway he was in, easily able to see where the doors that led to the office of Sykes were. He'd run towards it, thinking: "I'm so close now…I'm this city's only hope…I've got to stop Sykes at all costs…man, what was I thinking, wishing I was never born! Now I've learned the hard way I am much more important than I ever thought I was! I want to live again! I want to return to my own, original world! But whether that happens or not, first thing's first! I've gotta shut Sykes down and end his tyrannical reign of monstrous, heartless, dark evil over this city, and all this world, for that matter, when it gets down to it!"

So Oliver, reaching the doors, saw that they were perfectly open despite looking closed, and could tell Sykes deliberately kept them this way so that he could look forward to people who would come to his office for one reason or another, only to be fired and/or killed by him. It was one of his favorite dirty tricks and traps for the workers he tortured and held disdain for and lots of power over. He thus pushed one of them open, which Sykes, Roscoe and Desoto saw at once. Sykes went: "Eh? Who dares enter my office? Another foolish worker, perchance?" "No, Sykes! A far different kind of enemy!" Oliver said upon entering. "A kitten?" exclaimed Desoto. "Say, Sykes, I thought you had all animals put in pounds or, if dying and/or without any more room, left someplace or another, save for me and Desoto!" Roscoe said. "I did. How the hell this ginger kitten got here, I've not a clue," Sykes replied, "but I can assure you, feline, that you are way in over your runty little head here." "Maybe, but I refuse to yield! I stopped you once, along with Fagin, his dogs, Jenny and Georgette, and I'll do so again, even if it's only me this time and will not be easy!" Oliver replied. "You say that as though we've met before." Sykes told him. "Yeah, but none of us have ever seen you!" Roscoe said. "Who are you, anyway?" Desoto asked. "I like to know who I'm about to snack on." "My name's Oliver, and you're not snacking on anyone!" let out Oliver. "I'm pulling your plug, Sykes, and I'm ending your evil rule, and I refuse to be beaten by you or either of your Dobermans!"

"You, a mere orange kitten with far more spunk and courage than one would expect any kitten to have, and only his little claws and fangs to rely on, are going to stop even one of us, let alone all three of us?" Sykes asked boastfully and disdainfully. "Forgive my cynical sneer, young one…" He looked to his dogs and said: "Roscoe, Desoto, tear him apart." "Gladly!" let out both of them in unison. They went for him, and Oliver leapt over the charging Dobermans with all his might, landing on the desk of Sykes. He then said: "Sykes, it's over! You're going to pay for your crimes and all they caused…" He leapt onto Sykes's neck and started chewing away at his ears, along with clawing at his face while doing all he could to avoid Sykes's massive hands, in addition to going: "I am going to stop you one way or the other, and I'm going to return to my world, where you are dead and don't rule, and your greed and tyranny no longer threatens New York City!" "Such a world is not one I would believe possible to exist," said Sykes in response, "but you will not be going back there, if it does in fact exist and you were in it before, nor will you be going anywhere but to your grave! Ah, Roscoe! Desoto! It is good you're back here! Do be so good as to help me lacerate this little runt!" "Sure thing, especially after he dodged us like that and humiliated us!" Roscoe put in.

"Really, kid, you think you have a prayer against us? A ghost of a chance of winning this? You don't even have a snowball's chance in hell, and you've signed your own damned death warrant!" Desoto told him. "Yeah, seriously!" Roscoe agreed as they opened their mouths to try and bite him into a corpse and eat him while Sykes did all he could to get a hold of the fast moving and thoroughly determined Oliver. "If you're that delusional, then you need to wake up, Oliver!" "Indeed!" Sykes concurred, getting a hold of Oliver at last and squeezing the struggling kitten, who he held near the mouths of his hungry, drooling Dobermans, both of whom had very sadistic and nasty, evil grins on their faces, anticipating chowing down on Oliver. "Wake up, Oliver! Wake up!" Sykes continued, laughing evilly. While he was struggling on and on, doing all he could to break the grip of the monster who was holding him at death's door, Oliver heard the voice of Jenny go: "Wake up, Oliver! Wake up!" He was confused, but then he would hear the voice of Georgette say: "Oliver, wake up!"

At that moment, he awoke, only to see that not only Georgette and Jenny, but also Fagin and all five of his dogs, along with Winston and Jenny's parents, were all in the room he'd been in, and he went: "What? What's going on? Where am I now? Rita? I thought you were at Fagin's grave and trying to spend your last moments with him! Fagin? You're alive? But…I was told by Jenny you'd died…JENNY? You're eight? But you were a drugged teenager…Georgette? I saw you in the pound! What…Jenny said you were taken by Sykes years ago…Dodger? Weren't you in that alley? What happened to your wounds? Tito? Francis? Weren't you guys in the pound, as well? Einstein? I thought Dodger told me Sykes had you killed! And that the same thing had been done to Winston and Jenny's parents? And for that matter, where did Sykes, Roscoe and Desoto go? I thought I was in his Eternal Sykes Building office trying to bring them down and make things right, but now I'm in some kind of bedroom? And they're nowhere to be seen?"

"Eternal Sykes Building?" asked Dodger, suddenly confused. "Yeah! I thought I was in Sykesville!" Oliver said. "SYKESVILLE?!" everyone said to one another in unison, baffled as the dickens. "I think you mean Empire State Building and New York City, Oliver." Rita told to the kitten. "Especially since Sykes is just as dead now as he's been for the past couple months or so." Dodger added. "And so are those disgusting, dirty Dobermans." Georgette stated. "And you are still in my bed, just as you were when you ran up because you were so upset with yourself over your Christmas tree accident, which has now been fixed up perfectly." Jenny informed him. "Then…then there was no Sykesville? I exist? I was born? I'm here? This is your mansion and in New York City?" "Of course, Oliver!" Jenny told him. "Do you know how long you've been asleep?" asked Fagin. "For at least a good three hours!" put in Tito. "Then…it was all nothing but a dream?" Oliver asked, realizing what this meant. "Yeah, though it sounds more like you had a nightmare, if it went like you describe, and after such a shock as you had with the tree incident, no less." Francis told him.

"The tree…" Oliver gasped, remembering what had caused this to begin with. "I'm so, so sorry for knocking it over and making such a mess…" he said, hanging his head. "I just wanted to play with that ornament. I didn't know it wasn't a toy…I'm so sorry I ruined everything…" "But you didn't, Oliver." Dodger informed him. "What do you mean, Dodge?" Oliver asked. "I knocked the tree over, broke some lights and decorations, made a mess and destroyed the good time we were all having." "You're right on every one of those but the last one." Rita spoke. "You see, I know you were aghast at your accident and of course had not meant it, and you were so upset, and feeling so guilty, you ran off, thinking you had to and it was the only thing you could do. That was not true at all, and really, it was an incredible overreaction." "Yes, it was a shock for us all, and it did make a mess, but all of us were able to clean that mess and fix up the tree, and the lights which didn't break, which is the majority of them, work just fine, as we found out when we plugged the tree back in." Mrs. Foxworth said to him. "That, and we were able to clean up the broken pieces of glass, decoration and the like, clean out the things in our food, and it was still perfectly edible, and none of the presents were damaged. Not to mention how Jenny's homemade Christmas decorations now came into play." Mr. Foxworth added.

"What?" Oliver asked. "I made homemade decorations this year, but there was no room for them. The accident made it so there was, and I had, by chance, made just enough so there were just as many decorations on the tree as there had been before the accident, and amazingly, it looks even more beautiful than it did before." "Really?" Oliver asked. "Yes," Winston said, "and you should see it, though first I would like to say how sorry I am for startling you. You were just being playful, and I know that it was a combo of how I startled you and how taken aback you were at by mistake knocking down the tree which caused you to break down and feel so upset and miserable as you did. No one deserves that, least of all a sweet, kind, innocent kitten like you. Especially on Christmas Eve." "It's okay, but I guess that means you accept my apology for the accident?" asked Oliver. "We did long ago. And it pained us to hear how you said you wished you were never born." Rita informed him. "That's good to know you accept my apology, but how did you know I said it?" asked Oliver. "I was able to pick it up with my super-sharp ears." Tito said. "You know how good I can hear, amigo." "Ah, I see." Oliver acknowledged. "I would also like to make it very clear that you not only did not ruin Christmas, if anything, you added to the spirit." Dodger put in. "For you have, with the dream you had, learned just how very important to both us, this city and this world you are, and you have made us see more than we've ever seen before just how close we are to you, and each other, just as you've discovered how close you are to us all. Christmas is never gone, especially when it's in here." Jenny said.

She gently touched Oliver's chest, the region where his heart was, of course. And she'd then go: "That it would be in the body of a loving, loyal and darling kitten like you only further solidifies this." She picked him up and he nuzzled her, licking her face before saying: "Thanks. Thank you so much, all of you. I am glad to know Christmas is still what it was, and now, in a way, better than before." "That it is, and that it will be, come tomorrow, Christmas Day." Fagin spoke. "You should also know we were not the least bit angry at you after your accident, nor in any way intending to condemn you." "Really?" Oliver asked. "Really." Fagin nodded. "In fact, we actually felt a lot of pity toward you, as you were being far too angry at yourself for what you did not mean, and seeing a fixable problem as far worse than it was. It saddened us to know you were suffering so badly, and hurt so much, but we can see you are over it now." "And it is good you are over it, since it's one hour until Christmas." Francis pointed out. "I was asleep for THAT long?" Oliver asked, alarmed. "I'm afraid so." Einstein told him. "But it doesn't matter. You've been a good kitten all year, and you've been through much more than you should have been through tonight. And in general, too." Georgette put in. "I mean, even I admit this, and I'm a stuck up snob!" "That said, in addition to how it is good to see you've calmed down and we all agree you've been thinking too much of others and too little of yourself," Dodger let him know, "we're going to show you a real sight for sore eyes!"

"So come on down!" beckoned Jenny. They all went downstairs, and Oliver could not believe his eyes. In fact, he became starry eyed, for he saw the tree was indeed standing back up, the mess cleaned and the lights and decorations back as they were, with the exception that not quite as many lights were there, but the difference was subtle, and some of the decorations were Jenny's new ones. Most of all, though, it was beautiful beyond belief, and a lovely smile formed on the kitten's face. He gasped with joy when he noticed something he was not expecting at all. It was an extra gift. For him. One more than he'd had before. "Yeah, Santa could see how much you hurt, so he took one last trip to give you an extra present this year." smiled Rita. In reality, it was Jenny who'd gotten it, going for a walk to get it for him(of course taking money with her so to pay for it, and she intended it to be something really nice, too)after the mess was cleaned and the damage undone, but also before the party, be in terms of cuisine, chatter or cheer, was finished, but Jenny wouldn't spoil the surprise or the moment. Oliver said: "Whoa…it's so, so beautiful…" "It sure is. Christmas Eve and Christmas itself are anything but destroyed, and in fact are, in some ways, even better than before." Mr. Foxworth said. "Just promise us you will never doubt yourself again, and to remember both how vital you are to us, this city and this world, as well as how you must be careful what you wish for." Francis let him know. "After all, it just might come true." Georgette put in.

"I can see that now, and I promise…" Oliver nodded, purring and smiling. "Thank you for all of this…" "Of course, Oliver…" Mrs. Foxworth told him. "After all the hell you've been through tonight, you deserve nothing short of the best of heaven." Rita said. "Especially since it is Christmas Eve, and almost Christmas Day." "Oh, and that reminds me! We must all be going to bed!" Winston pointed out. "It's 11: 30 by this point." "All right, then. Let's go, all." Fagin said, and everyone got going for bed, be it Oliver, Jenny, Winston and Georgette, along with Mr. and Mrs. Foxworth, for their beds in the mansion, or Fagin and his five dogs back to their condo, though they knew and so did the Foxworth mansion residents that they'd be back for Christmas, and both sides looked forward to it. "Merry Christmas, Oliver." Dodger spoke for himself and all of his friends, plus his owner. "Merry Christmas, Dodger." Oliver replied. "By the way, when Jenny told me Christmas was always here, and especially in my heart, she was right about that, wasn't she?" "Absitively posolutely, kid." Dodger smiled just before he disappeared out the door that would a second later be shut. "Absitively posolutely." After they were gone, everyone still in the place headed upstairs, and Georgette said to Oliver: "And I've got to say, Oliver, it took me quite a bit and a real long time to realize it, but you know what?" "What?" Oliver asked, looking up at her while they walked. "It's a wonderful life…as long as you're around." Georgette smiled. Oliver smiled back, nuzzled her and purred, vowing he would never forget how important it was he came into existence, nor what his purpose was, and of course he would never forget what the Christmas spirit was and why it was vital to all who lived in the world, NYC or otherwise. And as he was still just a kitten, he had both a wonderful Christmas and a wonderful future to look forward to, though the former obviously a lot sooner, since it was less than half an hour away by now. All in all, despite his past ordeals, including this most recent of them which thankfully was now over, it was clear Oliver lived a wonderful life.

THE END

So, how did you like it? Please rate and review, and Merry Christmas, everyone! Happy holidays, and let no OAC fan forget just how important Oliver was to his movie and the ending thereof!


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